45 Years Ago, I Want To Take You Higher!


45 years ago Woodstock was in full swing and the world was watching.  Although I did not attend Woodstock, I did attend Goose Lake a year later with over 200,0oo others.  I wish I could say I remembered the whole experience.  I’m sure many of those who are still surviving from Woodstock,  don’t remember the whole weekend either.

Much has happened in those 45 years, not only in the world but in my life. Things I would like to forget and much I would love to repeat.  A war was raging, people were divided over that, and so much more.  Most everyone I knew was just trying to live for today and not worry about tomorrow.  Hum, that might explain why I don’t have a big golden retirement egg.  More like I had more goose eggs on my head from motor cycle and car accidents.  That might explain a lot too.

Jobs, husbands, children, good times and bad, it’s all a part of who I am today.  I suppose those that were at Woodstock, Goose Lake and all the other pop rock festivals across the nation during those times, might be fondly remembering today.

My favorite band at the time was Sly and the Family Stone.  Janis and Jimmy were next in line.    My ears are still working but barely above hearing aid volume.  I still love my music loud or I need it loud, I’m not sure which.  I never considered myself a hippy but then I wasn’t anti-establishment either.  I was somewhere in-between, as were so many of us.  I never burned my bra, someone’s draft card or a flag. I worked to support myself and even though I always had to have a room-mate because I didn’t make enough money to pay rent on my own, I tried to be independent and responsible. Notice I said tried.  Epic fails from time to time.

I’m going out on a limb here, but I would be willing to bet that many people who attended Woodstock or were old enough to be there, are surprised they are still alive.  Many of my friends from those days didn’t make it much longer.  Friends that died in the war, friends that died of over doses and friends that died in-car accidents.  By the luck of the draw or by the hand of God, what ever you believe, we that remember, are still here.

This morning I was on YouTube watching videos of Woodstock and I not only found myself smiling but keeping time with the music.  My mind drifted back 45 years ago, when I was just 19 years old and full of life and myself.  How’s the song go? Ten feet tall and bullet proof?  I remember a young girl (much thinner) in bell bottoms, a white blouse and a leather vest.  It was blue on the top with white stars on the front.  The bottom was adorned with long leather fringe of red and white stripes.  How I loved to dance in that outfit to Sly’s music!

Somewhere deep inside this aging body that young woman still lives.  She can’t move as fast or easily as she one had, but the rhythm still beats from within.  Now days, when I think of getting higher, I’m thinking about what floor of a hotel I wish to reserve my room.

45 years, good or bad, I’m glad I’m still here and have all the memories.  Or at least the ones that I can dig up from the deep abyss of my brain. Explaining how my brain works, well that’s a whole other story and probably too long to blog!




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